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I was thrown up into this world
Or born into it
Or cast down
Some time ago
When everything was grey
Mostly
Although some things were black
Or white
And your skin colour
Could be wrong or right
Regardless of your heart
And actions
It made me nervous
That one could so easily
Cross the line
And be punished
For who you were
So I locked myself away
In my room
My tomb
And listened to the radio
But mostly the music was grey too
Like Johnny Ray
And Doris Day
So I dreamed in Vistavision
And lived in the movies
Where the hero stood up to the mob
And did the right thing
Regardless of the cost
Sometimes getting the girl
In the final reel
Sometimes not
For the hero was mostly a loner
A man who'd seen too much
And didn't want to see anymore
For he too
Found that the world was grey
And was not above sacrificing his life
So that others may live
I continued on
Looking forward to Christmas
And my birthdays
When suddenly there was kindness
And laughter
And glimpses of the colours
Of joy
And what the world could be
If only we tore the walls down
And embraced
And displayed our brokenness
And vocalised our care for others
Imagine
I was about eleven years of age
With my mum in the Myer department store
In the city
When I heard a sound that changed my life
It was unlike anything I'd ever heard
I stopped
Transfixed
My mother asked me what was wrong
I smiled because
Suddenly
Everything seemed somehow right
I wandered away
Toward the music
Leaving my mother to follow me
The singer's voice
Was the most exciting and dynamic sound
I'd ever heard
He sounded like a caged animal
That had just been set free
As I had
The record was "Twist And Shout"
By a group called the Beatles
And on the front cover of their EP
They looked to this kid from St. Kilda
To be from another planet
Their hair, their clothes, their boots, their sound
It seemed the planet they came from was called Liverpool
I needed to know what the singer's name was
And was told by the girl behind the record counter
That he was John Lennon
And he played rhythm guitar and co-wrote moat of their songs
John Lennon saved my life that day
And he has had my staunch loyalty ever since
I grew to read much about him
In fact, everything
And have since met many people who knew him
He was a complex, fascinating, contradictory and flawed man
All of which made him even more interesting
And still does to this day
Scarred by the early loss of his father, then his mother
And then his best friend
He put up a guard to protect himself
From any more hurt
His singing tone sometimes snarled to hide his pain
But we heard it in his soul
And in the words of his songs
And knew that behind the tough guy facade he was the kindest
And most caring of all
My friend Phil Sloan told me that John's spirit was so huge
That you actually felt his presence enter a room
Before you'd even seen him
Another friend of John's who'd known me for some time
Told me that he would've liked me
I hope so
Because I have spent a long time
Loving him
He was my liberator, my hero, my friend
He made me laugh, he made me cry, he made me angry, he made me care
And sometimes when I am lost or despairing
I think about how Johnny Rhythm would handle things
And it gives me the inspiration to go on
To try and find a way
I guess it was destiny
That he left us after such a short time
But perhaps his spirit was too big for this world
As his beautiful boy Sean said to his mother when she was grieving,
"Don't worry, Daddy's bigger now...Now he's part of everything."
(c) Frank Howson 2017

We're like the dogs
Who shy away from your touch
Some of us bite
When we've been hurt too much
We try to forget
But we never can
The inhumanity
And cruelty of man
Some are like cats
Who tend to love with reserve
Dogs wag their tails
While the cats just observe
Dogs try to help us
But cats know they can't
For dogs think we are Gods
While cats know that we aren't
(c) Frank Howson 2017 Lantau, Hong Kong.

Becoming the Director of the Melbourne Underground Film Festival is something I had not lobbied for or ever desired. But given Richard Wolstencroft’s recent sudden departure and his request to take over the helm, it is something I couldn’t refuse as the Festival is now bigger than any one person and for it to cease to exist would be, in my opinion, a tragedy for the industry. It fills a very important role in shining a light on the next generation of Australian filmmakers and in its 18 years of existence it has discovered a number of people who have gone onto receive international success.

Years ago when I was a young creative person trying to break into the film business it was almost impossible. It seemed, at that time, to be a closed shop with the same ol’ same ol’ people getting the grants and making the movies. And of course, those who were benefitting from the system were certainly very reluctant to let new blood in. Many of those people never encouraged the next generation of talent and we have been paying for that for some time now. Who knows how many brilliant young creatives got frustrated by the red tape and closed doors, gave up and walked away. It made me all the more determined that if I broke through then the least I could do would be to help others achieve the same. And so I did. Even though at the height of my success I was making 5 films a year (in some cases shooting a movie whilst I was in post-production of the last one and pre-production of the next), yet, I still made time to meet and give advice to any young filmmaker who phoned asking for help. I am proud that my company gave several directors their first chance to direct a movie, along with giving breaks to young editors, music composers, actors, costume designers, etc., etc.

In fact I remember giving the young Richard Wolstencroft his first chance to direct a 35mm movie, which starred the very young Lachy Hulme. Although in my long and varied career I have won quite a few awards, I can say in all honesty that nothing gives me more joy than the knowledge that I helped several people into the industry who went onto achieve international recognition.

It saddens me that Richard has had to relinquish his directorship of the Melbourne Underground Film Festival so suddenly and in such circumstances. It was his creation and for 18 years his baby and I have some understanding of the pain involved in having to walk away from that. Hopefully with the passing of time people will choose to remember his contribution and achievements rather than some ill-conceived and ill-timed remarks that I know he is extremely and sincerely sorry for having made. In the words of the great director Billy Wilder, “A man is as good as the best thing he did, not the worst.”

In my opinion the mark of how far we have spiritually evolved in this life is measured by our capacity to humble ourselves by owning up and apologizing for our wrongs and, in other cases, to forgive. The latter takes an awful lot of evolving to reach.

Under my directorship at the Melbourne Underground Film Festival, I will continue to spotlight new and exciting local talent, and select movies that take risks, that inspire and inform us, confront us, thrill us, and celebrate our humanity towards people of diversity. I do not undertake this leadership for ego reasons, or financial gain, but see it as a service to the industry and the community that original voices are discovered and given the forum to be heard, and debated, as well as the opportunity to go on.

I look forward to steering a new look Melbourne Underground Film Festival to an exciting future for filmmakers and cinema goers alike, and I hope you will support my efforts by submitting your work and attending our screenings. Let’s defeat apathy and build a healthy and diverse film industry one brick at a time.

In this business of show
The best advice I can give is
Don't take no for an answer
Your work will be judged by idiots
And by genius
And guess what?
Sometimes they all get it wrong
And if all these experts know everything
Then how come they make so many flops?
Your greatest guide
And you must protect it
Is your instinct
For those of us who believe in a higher power
I believe our instinct is God talking to us
But guess what?
Most times we second guess ourselves
And go against it
Or allow ourselves to be talked into doing
Something that doesn't feel right
And the end result is always disaster
And recriminations
If everyone followed sound advice
And stuck to the tried and true formula
We'd have had no DaVinci
Or Glenn Gould
Nikola Tesla
Or Picasso
Marlon Brando
Beatles
Elvis
Hitchcock
Bob Dylan
David Lynch
Breaking Bad
And so on and so on...
The Beatles were told that "Guitar bands are out of fashion"
Tesla was told that "his ideas wouldn't fly"
Yet he lit up the world
And in return it broke his heart
Elvis was threatened with jail if he continued to rock the boat
And Dylan was laughed at as a freak
I'm not saying that sticking to your inner voice
Wont be a difficult road
It will be
But when was anything worth having easy?
All the people I have mentioned had only one thing in common
Persistence
Fuelled by a total self belief
Don't get me wrong
I'm not saying don't listen to good advice
Do
For only a fool turns their back on a good idea
But trust your own instinct as to what is right for you
And what isn't
My mother once told someone that if you want Frank to do
Something for you just ask him and he will
But order him to do it
And he'll do the opposite just to piss you off
So I guess I was born with a rebel soul
And all I know is this
Every time I was told
"You'll never make a film because you haven't made one before.
So go home and forget about it, sonny, and leave it to the experts"
It somehow made me stronger and more determined to prove them wrong
Every time I was told "Don't bother trying to get that big name star
For your movie, because it won't happen"
It did
Or "You can't make a film about that because it's too personal and no one
will get it other than you"
That was the one the people responded to
In an era that I believe is the darkest age for movies
When they are only making films about comic books
Don't give up
Where some see a wasteland
Others sees a golden opportunity
Never before has an original idea been such a valuable commodity
Be bold and mighty forces join you
The future belongs to you
If you are brave enough
And strong enough
And stubborn enough to grasp it
And to those who are
We at the Melbourne Underground Film Festival
Salute you
(SPEECH DELIVERED AT THE 2017 MELBOURNE UNDERGROUND FILM FESTIVAL)
(c) Frank Howson 2017

She appeared in the half light
Of the room
Suddenly the space feels smaller
Her tight dress hugging her body
Like the imagination of many men
Revealing enough of her ample cleavage
To start a riot
She is hesitant at first
Not yet seizing her control of the situation
Scanning the large studio
Taking in every detail like an experienced assassin
Her eyes finally settling on you
And exuding all the electricity
Of a holy prophet
She asks how long she will be needed
And you tell her all afternoon
Suppressing the urge to say "forever"
She smiles ever so slightly
As she reads your mind
She then says "How do you want me?"
Now you know she is playing you
And the game is afoot
You slowly walk to her
And stand behind her body
Unzipping her
into freedom
Letting her dress fall to the floor
There are no undergarments to bother with
And suddenly
Unexpectedly
She is revealed to you
Naked except for the high heels
Looking down you take in everything
Trying to etch it into your memory
Forevermore
The wonder of this moment
And the privilege
And although you are behind her
She feels the heat of your stare
And is energised
And empowered by it
Stealing the last of your strength
You are now in checkmate
She smiles to herself
The hunter and the hunted
The lines now blurred
She has you
As you slowly circle her seeing everything she has
While she stands there proudly defiant
Like a Goddess
You want to hear her cry out
In payment
For her sins
But that will have to wait
You are no longer commanding the moves
As you stand before her
Humbled
Maybe broken
As those who stand in awe
In front of the world's great works of art
You look up and lock eyes with her
And this is the most intimate moment of all
And you flinch
Lowering your eyes to her perfect lips
You have never hungered for anything more
Than to kiss them
And her body knows it
Standing there a second longer
Would cause you to take her
With the force of a leopard
Devouring its prey
But you have no strength left in your body
You are done
As you turn to walk back to the blank canvas
Waiting on your easel
You select your paintbrush
And already defeated
Attempt to capture
Her beauty
Before the light fades
(c) Frank Howson 2017

So many battles I've had to fight alone. Betrayed by those I loved
the most, they were also the ones I had been fighting for. The
weariness of this realisation makes you weak at the knees and
yet you must continue to fight or else the duplicity of their
motives will win the day. You become hollow inside, not by cancer,
but by the fact that something deep and magical and life enhancing
has closed down never again to be reignited. You feel lighter as
you inch closer to death. All that remains on most days is a shell.
This is when you are called upon to become an actor and give
'em what they want. A performance. A great performance because it
is so convincing most people think you still function and have risen
above the hurt and damage of the shadow people. But then again, your
life, or what's left of it, hangs on the thread of your ability to
push on through the small talk and darkness of "What if...?" without
puking on someone's expensive shoes. So many amongst us are asleep
at the wheel and do not understand or care about what is at stake.
Love is a distraction. Pain is the only honest constant and it has
become your friend. You cannot be hurt anymore, which is
disappointing to a lot of women. You cannot be brought down any
further, which is crushing to many men. You cannot be bought,
because there is nothing you need. You cannot be humiliated
anymore, which is pleasing to God. For now all layers of bullshit
and make-believe have been ripped away. You are free now. God
almighty, free at last! You once had a dream too. But now you
have awakened to see the game for what it is. Nothing can scare
you now. You are impenetrable. This makes you frightening to those
who only operate by spreading fear amongst us. And at the dawn of
our demise you are noticeably at peace. And powerful again.
(c) Frank Howson 2017
Painting by Frank Howson (c) 2017

I stumbled and fell into this. It was not of my doing as the road
I was forging went in a different direction to the dreams of the boy
I was. This caused me great confusion and suffering as I wandered
lonely as a cloud through school poetry and beatings. My pain became
my shield and protected me from the salt of their laughter. I learned to
make them laugh before they had the chance to laugh first. Several women
attempted to wash my feet before my crucifixion one grey day in history
when our father forsaken me because of his drinking. I cried in agony with
a thief each side of me, one believing in me, and one to ridicule me for a
life that ended so. Somehow I rose from the dead and since then I have had
several resurrections. In fact, the more times people write me off, the
stronger I come back. My enemies have unwittingly made me indestructible. The shock
realisation of this has killed many of them. The rest I have dealt with.
People now stop me in the street and ask for my wisdom. But this wisdom was
not my doing, and has come from the undoing of everything I wanted and loved.
It was fired by pain and made as strong as steel through humiliation and
injustice. But still I go on. And those who have spoken against me have
been struck down by God or are dying in the poisoned bile of their lies.
I visit their graves at night to laugh. For nothing is forgotten or
forgiven at this train stop on the way to Armageddon. I choose to travel
economy for my instinct tells me that God only welcomes the humbled. The man
who brags may get ahead in this life, but suffers a thousand years in the
next. The ignorant fool who never stops talking and always distorts the
third hand facts will be the next to fall on his sword and death
waits patiently in his gallery of art to silence his unrepentant and envious
ways. I am coming for him. Coming in the night. Coming in the dead end
street. Coming in his busy schedule. Coming for rightful correction. Coming.
Every hurtful snide remark is etched on my heart. Every belittling lie
is another stab wound he will suffer. Another thousand years to linger
at the abyss. And the hellish realisation that it was all for nothing.
(c) Frank Howson 2017
Photograph by Raija Sunshine (c) 2017